


Yorkshire Gold, No Sugar, Milk

by Axella779



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Peter is around but no one knows him yet, Realization of Feelings, Tea making as love language, implied Elias/Peter - Freeform, kinda a crack fic, s1 timeframe, tea making as hate language, warning: improper tea making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24451906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axella779/pseuds/Axella779
Summary: Martin makes tea for his colleagues.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 10
Kudos: 91





	Yorkshire Gold, No Sugar, Milk

**Author's Note:**

> I’m American but I lived in London for 4 years and I will never stop being fascinated by Brit’s tea drinking habits and rituals.

The mugs make a ceramic clink as Martin pulls two more down from the cupboard by the handles and places them next to the pair already set by the bubbling kettle. Wide-mouthed mason jars line the backsplash, containing small square bags of Yorkshire Gold, golden brown sugar granules, and seldom used coffee grounds. He takes two of the parcels from the tea jar and places them in Jon’s and his mugs. From the boxes in the cupboard he pulls a bag of PG Tips and one of mint Tea Pigs, deposited into Tim and Sasha’s cups respectively. One spoonful of sugar for himself, two for Tim, none for Jon, honey for Sasha. The kettle clicks off and he pours the boiling water into each mug, removes Tim and Jon’s bags, and adds a splash of milk to the black teas. After quick stirs of each, he places a Rich Tea Biscuit atop Tim’s mug and his own which he leaves upon the counter with Jon’s. He’ll come back for them and maybe take his tea break in the Head Archivist office if Jon is feeling sociable. Gathering up Tim’s and Sasha’s mugs, Martin heads first toward the office they share through the door labelled Archival Assistants.

***

It had become somewhat of a ritual, Martin being the designated tea boy for everyone in the Archives. At one of his longer office temp gigs it had been a sort of unofficial rota. Whoever had a break in workflow, if they were feeling generous, might ask around who wanted a cuppa. It usually ended up the standard tea preparation across the board, some weak off-brand breakfast tea for the whole office that was on offer at the corner shop, milk, no sugar. Always a little too light and milky for what Martin preferred.

During his first couple weeks at the Institute, he noticed that either Tim or Sasha tended to get up only a couple minutes apart from each other to make themselves a drink. Seeing the hot beverage on their colleague’s desk the other would follow suit soon after. Martin would often try to time his for when he needed a short break from sorting through statements, especially on the days in which he didn’t have to leave the office for any fieldwork. Those days felt too long, broken up only by a midday lunch in the break room. In the late afternoon, if he felt his eyelids growing heavy he would get up from the desk, more for a change of scenery than for want of a hot drink. Once, Sasha had kindly made him one from her vast collection of herbal teas, but the lack of caffeine and a moment to stretch his legs were very much missed on that day, and he only barely made it til six o’clock.

***

“Sasha, my love, be a dear and make us some tea?” Tim asked.

“You have legs,” Sasha replied, without any real malice, continuing to type at a quick but steady pace and not looking up from her computer monitor. She cracked a smile. It was clear to Martin that this was probably an oft made (and oft denied) request from Tim.

“I’ll go,” Martin volunteered, still new and trying to make a good impression on his colleagues. “How do each of you take it?” He figured he could probably handle remembering two drink orders.

“Thank you New Guy! How very kind of you,” Tim said with a teasing look toward Sasha. He’d yet to refer to Martin by name and he wasn’t entirely sure if it was some sort of light hazing or if Tim actually didn’t know his name. “The PG Tips for me, two sugars, it's up in the cupboard with the digestives.”

“Just a chamomile, thank you,” Sasha looked up from her screen to smile kindly at Martin.

“Right, no problem,” Martin smiled back, making his way out of the room. The kitchenette and break room were just past Jon’s office. As he walked by the open door, Martin supposed he ought to try and win over his new boss while he was at it. He stopped and knocked lightly on the door to get Jon’s attention.

“Yes, Martin?” Jon asked by way of greeting, not looking up from the paperwork in his hands. His tone wasn’t unkind, but Martin got the feeling Jon was not the overtly friendly sort.

“Ummm, I was just going to put the kettle on, would you like something?”

Jon looked up, regarding Martin with a steady gaze. His brow briefly creased in confusion like he had been caught off guard by the question. _Maybe it was unusual for the assistants to fetch Jon’s tea?_

“Just a regular tea for me,” Jon replied.

“Milk and sugar?”

“Yes, thank you. And if you would shut the door, please,” he returned to his work.

Martin closes the office door on his way out. He decides to also head to the other end of the hall and see if Elias wants anything as well, but when he gets there the door to the Head of the Institute’s office is slightly ajar. There’s someone else inside, oddly dressed in a navy greatcoat, there with Elias. But the man is turned with his back to the door, so Martin cannot see his face. They seem to be in some heated debate and Martin thinks it best not to interrupt. Instead he rounds back to the kitchenette to fill everyone else’s drink requests.

This part always feels a bit like a test when starting a new job, see how well the newbie can follow simple directions. Once, when he was still in between jobs, he had done a day of training with an artisan carpenter down in Peckham. After he had bumped into the machinery a few too many times in the cramped workshop, the man had asked him to make them some tea, probably just to get him out of the way for a moment. He had been too flustered and forgotten to ask how the carpenter had wanted his. When the older man took a sip he frowned, the mug ended up remaining undrunk on the bench while he tried to talk through a few simple woodworking techniques to a fairly inept and nervous Martin. Martin didn’t work with him a second day. He doubted the tea was the exact reason he hadn’t been asked back, but it surely had been a contributing factor.

He waits for the electric kettle to boil.

_One PG Tips, two sugar, milk. One Chamomile, twist the string around the handle. One Yorkshire Gold, no sugar, milk. Another Yorkshire Gold, sugar, milk._

Martin leaves the bag in his own, he likes it strong.

He drops Jon’s, in a brown coloured coffee cup, off first. Jon frowns at the mug but takes a sip anyways. Trying to look casual, Martin lingers in the doorway for a moment to gauge his reaction. He doesn’t look up this time but makes a short hum of approval.

“Lovely. Thank you Martin.”

Martin lets out a small sigh of relief once he’s out of Jon’s office. _Lovely_. Well, at least he probably won’t be fired for his tea making ability this time. _Enough stalling, best get back to work before I really am fired._

“Brilliant Martin, thank you.” Sasha said as he hands her the mug.

“Good job New Guy,” ( _Ok, he had definitely heard Sasha call him by name._ ) Tim clamps him on the shoulder after taking a sip of his own. Test passed.

“This is Jon’s mug by the way.” Tim spins his cup around to reveal the words I’M A FUCKING PROFESSIONAL printed in block letters. Martin snorts a laugh and nearly spits out his tea.

“Really?” asks Martin in disbelief. From their limited interactions since he started, he hadn’t known if Jon had a sense of humour.

“Got it for his birthday last year. He pretended not to be chuffed but he’s always using it when I go into his office,” Tim winked, he had wheeled his chair away from his desk and brought it over to perch on the side of Martin’s. Sasha remained by her own desk but had brought her seat around the side and spun it to fully face Martin. _So much for getting back to work._

They end up chatting for a bit before returning to work. Sasha makes polite conversation by asking about his previous work and interests which he answers truthfully. He’s relieved when neither of them ask about his (nonexistent) master’s in parapsychology. In turn, he learns that she has been working in the Archives the longest, along with Jon before he got promoted. Tim, who Martin suspects is much less career minded, talks him through which of the pubs around the Institute are best for afterwork drinks and dinner dates. (The Mitre and The Founder’s Arms, respectively.)

The conversation probably would have lasted longer, but when they hear a cough from the doorway all turn like they’ve been caught misbehaving in class.

“Sasha, may I borrow you to look into something?” Jon asks.

Martin immediately begins to shuffle the papers on his desk to give the illusion of being busy. He misses the skeptical expression Jon aims at the back of his head. Tim is slower to wheel his chair back behind his own desk and doesn’t put much effort into pretending he had only paused briefly in his tasks.

***

After a couple months, Martin figures he is well past his trial period and won’t be let go from this job. Moreover, he likes it. He likes his colleagues and the work has potential to be interesting every once in awhile.

The fifteen minute tea breaks around three o’clock become the norm and Tim and Sasha figure out that they can get him to get up and make the tea when they don’t feel like it, (which is often) until the duty falls solely to Martin. He doesn’t mind so much, the routine of it. Plus if he’s honest, the extra ten minutes he takes to make the tea is also a nice reprieve.

Jon catches them a few times but never says anything, so they assume he doesn’t mind. They’re on salary rather hourly afterall. Martin feels a little bad for leaving him out of the conversations, though, and resolves to try and include him next time.

  
  
***

He stands there for a moment after placing Jon’s tea on the desk. When Jon thanks him then looks up at him expectantly, Martin forgets that he was going to ask if he wanted to join them in the other office. In a moment of forgetful panic he takes a seat in front of Jon’s desk, still holding his and Tim’s and Sasha’s teas. Jon’s face fast forwards through surprise and annoyance before settling on resigned indifference.

“How’s your day been?” Martin asks, inwardly cringing at his awkward attempts at small talk.

“Fine, thank you for asking,” says Jon not bothering to open up the conversation for a reply. Jon looks at Martin then back at his papers, clearly unsure which he should be giving his attention to in this moment.

“Oh, glad to hear. Um. I was just worried that you might get lonely in here by yourself. I thought you might like to chat,” Martin rambles. He forgets to add “in the other room with me and Tim and Sasha”. The pause is too long, too late to add the invite now. He can feel colour rise in his cheeks. Martin might not be an extrovert, but he’s normally capable of holding a conversation. To be fair, Jon isn’t making it particularly easy, but he put himself in this awkward situation and now he’s not sure how to get out.

For his part, Jon doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself either, giving up on looking at the papers or Martin and instead sits back and drinks his tea. Martin takes this as a sign that he’s allowed to continue to try and make stilted conversation. (“The weather was dreary this morning.” “I suppose it was.”/ “How was your commute? The Bakerloo was packed this morning from all the construction.” “The Victoria was fine.”/ “I like your mug.” “Tim gave it to me.”)

He’s eventually saved by Tim. 

  
“Thought you might have gotten lost on the way back,” he said taking his and Sasha’s tea out of Martin’s hand.

“Right. I’ll just pop off then,” said Martin seeing his chance to leave with Tim. But before he forgets again, “You’re welcome to join us during breaks, just so you know” Martin finally says.

For a moment Jon seems genuinely surprised but he quickly schools his features back into their normal resting position of aloofness.

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.” Martin has a feeling Jon won’t take him up on the offer, but he still feels a bit guilty leaving him on his own after only a cursory effort. Jon never eats lunch with the rest of them in the break room, and rarely talks to any of them about anything non-work related. _I’ll just have to try harder_ , Martin thinks, newly determined to make normal conversation with Jon.

***

One day while Martin is refilling the kettle, a man comes into the kitchenette.

“Hello...?” Martin greets him with some confusion. The break room is normally for employees only, and there’s another kettle in the waiting room for anyone who comes to make a statement.

“Just making some tea for Elias,” the man says by way of explanation. Martin suddenly recognizes his navy greatcoat from that time in Elias’s office.

“Oh, I can do that if you’d like,” said Martin already pulling down another mug.

“No, I’ve got it,” replied the man, gesturing with a pretty floral teacup edged in gold, and a tin of loose leaf Whittard’s.

“If you’re sure...” said Martin but the man seems to ignore him and continues in his task, opening a drawer and taking out a tea ball. Martin side-eyes him while he waits for his own water to boil. He watches as the tea ball is over stuffed, forced close, and placed in the cup. The kettle clicks off and Martin pours the water. There should be enough for his two mugs (its just Jon and him today, as Tim and Sasha are out on field work) and the small teacup, so he places the kettle on the counter when he is done. The man doesn’t seem to notice and moves to fill the teacup from the tap. He then stares in horrified fixation as the man reaches up to open the dirty communal microwave and the cup is placed inside, 2:30 typed into the keypad.

Martin stands there mortified, as the metallic rim of the cup and tea ball spark while it slowly spins inside the microwave. The man just drums his fingers against the counter waiting for it to ding, not looking in Martin’s direction. Martin forgets to go for the milk in the fridge and watches in rapt horror while the timer counts down to zero. The man retrieves it from the microwave when its done.

“Milk in the fridge?” he asks. Martin just nods. After adding the milk, the man leaves the carton on the counter, carefully takes the cup by the handle, and turns to leave.

“What the hell...” Martin says under his breath finally coming out of his stupor to add milk to his mugs.

As he exits the break room, he hears something hit the wall and shatter behind him at the other end of the hall near Elias’s office. He turns to see the teacup and its contents all over the wall and floor and he quickly heads into Jon’s office.

Jon looks quizzically at the two mugs in Martin’s hand when he gets inside.

“Oh I thought I heard you drop the tea,” said Jon.

“No, that was...,” Martin peaks his head out to see if anyone is coming out of Elias’s office to clean the mess, “That came from down the hall.”

Jon stands to see what Martin is looking at, just as the man in the greatcoat comes strolling out of Elias’s office and exits the Archival Office hall. They duck back into Jon’s office and close the door.

“I wonder what that was about,” Jon muses.

“That guy was in the break room with me, earlier. He said he was making tea for Elias but he microwaved it.”

“What?” Jon asks, genuinely shocked.

“Yah, it was weird. Like he was specifically making the tea in the worst way possible on purpose.” Martin recounts to Jon the atrocity he witnessed in the kitchenette. Jon for once looks truly amused.

“I’ve seen that man around before. Maybe Elias got a personal assistant that he managed to piss off and this was his petty revenge?” Jon speculates with a rare smirk.

He lights up at Jon’s sudden good humour. “The worst petty revenge, drinking microwaved tea!” Martin chuckles. “I’ll note that down for if I’m ever upset with you,” he teases, testing the boundaries of the banter Jon might allow him to make.

“I should sack you for even thinking that,” Jon says, suddenly very serious.But a small but teasing smile soon twists the corners of his mouth upward and he begins to laugh. This is a first, Jon laughing in front of him. A normal conversation between the two of them. Martin joins in his laughter and is suddenly struck by the warm feeling of how wonderful it is that he is the reason for it, and that he’d quite like to make that happen again.

_Oh no,_ he thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this solely to make Elias Bitchard to drink microwaved tea.
> 
> If I commited your tea (or coffee) drinking style to memory its because I’m deeply in love with you. 
> 
> My HC for the following characters:
> 
> Martin- Yorkshire Gold, one sugar, dash of milk, leave the bag in
> 
> Jon- Yorkshire Gold, no sugar, milk
> 
> Tim- Decaf PG Tips, two sugars, milk
> 
> Sasha- Tea Pigs Peppermint or Chamomile or Lemon and Ginger, spoon of honey but only with peppermint
> 
> Elias- Whittard’s Gunpowder Loose Leaf, no sugar, milk
> 
> Peter- Tesco’s Finest Instant coffee, black
> 
> More communal mugs in the break room:  
> https://niftyflowers.tumblr.com/post/619523133826793472


End file.
